


how much is a human life worth

by Chains_and_Pasta



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beating, Blood, Gen, Shooting, Stabbing, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chains_and_Pasta/pseuds/Chains_and_Pasta
Summary: Reese goes missing, and it's up to Finch to decide what he's willing to give up to save him





	1. part 1

    “He hasn't answered his phone in three days. It’s not like him, Ms. Shaw.”

    “Relax, Finch, maybe he just wants some time off.”

    “But that’s exactly it, he wouldn’t just disappear like this unless something’s wrong.” Finch paused for a moment to see if his words had any effect on Sameen. They didn’t. “I want you to go look for him.”

    “Why? Don’t think he can handle himself?”

    “I think whatever situation he’s in, he could use the extra help.”

    “Fine, but I’m taking the dog.”

    Finch opened his mouth to object, but Shaw cut him off. “He’s great at finding people, aren't you, Bear.” Shaw leaned over to pet the dogs head, “c'mon, go get your vest.”

Finch, although not happy about being without his companion, knew that having the dog with her would increase her chance of success in tracking Reese. So he sat down at his computer and tried to find something to busy himself with. There had been no numbers for the past few days, which was a good thing, being they were without Reese’s expertise for the time being, and even with Shaw and Root’s help, it was with his past experience that more was always better. He considered listing Detective Fusco’s help as well, but without solid evidence that something had happened to their mutual friend, it would be hard to drag him from his day job. Finch started looking through camera feed of Reese’s apartment building. Stairwells, elevators, the lobby, and even Reese’s apartment itself. He knew it was an invasion of privacy, something he felt strongly about when it came to himself. But, desperate times call for desperate measures.

When the feed came up empty, only showing Reese leaving his apartment three days prior and never returning, Finch started looking through the cameras in the library, even though it was a long shot. The only thing that feed showed was himself sitting at the same computer he was now. Occasionally someone else would enter, but only to exchange a few words with him and then leave again. Finch gave up on the camera feed, trying to think of something else that could shed light on Reese's location. He had already tried tracking the burner phone he had been using, but it was no use, it had already been destroyed. Finch leaned back in his chair, rubbing the place where his glasses pushed on the bridge of his nose, when his computer pinged, indicating a new window had been opened. Finch went to close it, thinking it a pop-up ad from one of the many websites he had open at any given time, but stopped when the small box showed a mid-quality security camera feed of a place he had never seen before. It looked like a small room, not unlike an interrogation room, with only a chair inside, sitting in the middle of the room, with the camera aimed directly at it. Finch continued watching as a man was lead on-screen with his head down by two armed men. They sat him down in the chair, restraining him with what Finch considered to be an excessive amount of duct tape on both his wrists, ankles, and middle. The two men looked into the camera before exiting the room, but not before another armed man came on-screen, looking into the camera as well, as if they knew Finch was watching. He said something to the man in the chair, before walking over to him and jerking his head up toward the camera. Finch stared at the screen, frozen, as the face of Reese stared back at him.

* * *

 

The vigilante let go of his hair and let his head fall, but Reese didn’t have to look up to know that he was staring him down, waiting for him to make the first move, to beg to be let go. But Reese knew that would do nothing. He already knew why he was here, though he could remember almost nothing prior. A dull ache in his shoulder gave him a good idea, though.

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Reese lifted his head to glance at his kidnapper, only for him to punch him in the eye. Reese recoiled, blinking the pain away.

“Now tell me, where is it.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“You might as well give it up now, things aren't going to get any easier for you.”

“I don’t know, ‘seems alright.”

“Ya know,” The vigilante turned around, facing the door, pulling something from his pockets, “my coworkers told me you would be difficult.” He turned back around, gleaming silver knife in hand. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

Knife in hand, the vigilante strode over to the chair Reese was tied in, walking behind him and clasping his hands on his shoulders.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But I’ve been told I’m very ‘persuasive’” The man moved the knife closer to Reese’s neck, using one of the cool, metal sides to lift up his chin.

“Let’s start, shall we?” He moved his knife away from his neck, and instead touched the sharp tip to his cheek, just next to his mouth.

“Don’t worry, just tell me whenever you’re ready.” The man then quickly dug the point into his face, dragging the blade up towards his ear, cutting his flesh like butter. Reese tensed every muscle in his neck, clenching his eyes shut until the vigilante got to his ear, putting the knife out slowly, letting the sticky blood run down the side of Reese’s face. He was barely given any break before the vigilante placed the knife next to his mouth again, this time dragging it up towards his cheekbones, stopping it so close to his eye Reese could feel the knife move when he blinked. The man pulled away again, walking around to Reese’s other side, lightly dragging the knife across Reese’s chin as he did so. He started again, making lacerations parallel to the ones on his left.

“This could all stop so easily, just tell me where the machine is and I’ll let you go.”

“Is- that the best you’ve got?” Reese choked out, feeling blood pool at the corners of his mouth, and its bitter-metallic taste on his tongue.

“Oh, John, always so stubborn. You value some machine over your own life. What would-” The man was cut off by his cell phone ringing. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” Reese thought he was in the clear for a moment, until the vigilante brought down his knife into his thigh, using it like a makeshift knife block. Reese recoiled, breath getting stuck in his chest as he did his best not to scream, only making small, forced groans.

“Oh relax.” The vigilante turned around, eyes Reese straining against his binds. “I didn’t hit any major artery, after all, you still haven’t given me what I want.” He finished his call, letting Reese wither in pain for several minutes until reaching over and pulling the knife back out, dark blood spurting from his wound.

“Our time is running out.” the Vigilante said, putting a controller out of his pocket and pointing it the wall. Hitting a button he cast a red timer on the wall, counting down from ten minutes. “When that timer runs out, Harold will die.”

Reese perked up, hearing his boss's name.

“I know you may not believe me.” The man pulled a handful of pictures out from the inside jacket, leaning over and showing them to Reese like he was a proud parent showing someone baby pictures. “There he is.” He pointed at a picture that looked like it had been taken through several windows. In the center of the picture was Finch, sitting at his computer, looking at the monitors. The man suddenly pulled that picture away to reveal one under it, taken with the same bad quality, this time of Finch standing at the glass board, looking at nothing in particular. “You see that little dot?” the man pointed to something on Finch’s chest. “I think you know what that is.” The man stood upright again, walking around to Reese’s front, “The best part is,” he pointed at the camera, “Harold gets to watch the whole thing. In fact, he’s been watching the whole time.”

* * *

 

    Finch watched in abject horror as they tortured Reese. It wasn’t until another two windows popped up on his monitor that he realized he hadn’t moved for the past twenty or so minutes. He switched his attention to one of the new windows, a text box, displaying three lines of text.

    _Hello, Harold._

_You have ten minutes to give us information on the machine. Once the time on that timer runs out, Reese will be taken to another location, and punished for your unwillingness to comply._

Finch tried to type back in the chat box, but he was unable to. He leaned forward in his chair, trying to decode any of the three windows open on his screen, all while glancing back at the timer every five seconds.

    More text popped up in one of the windows.

    _Are you going to waste time tracking me? Or help your friend?_

Finch was left with a choice, lose the machine, the numbers, his admin status. Or Reese, his partner of three years. He searched desperately on the screen for something that would give him the off chance to save both of them. He couldn’t choose, he didn’t _want_ to choose. But his unwillingness to act made the choice for him, as the timer hit zero, and all three windows went black.

* * *

 

    He frantically hit buttons, looking for something that would connect him with Reese again. But it was useless, the windows closed, and there was no way for him to bring them back.

    His phone buzzed, he tapped his earpiece, listening.

    “Any news on Reese, Finch?”

    He paused, considering what he should tell her. “Yes, he’s been captured, and they’re on the move with him. Please hurry, Ms. Shaw.”

    “On it.”

    Finch turned back to the monitors, ending the call. His breath hitched and he sighed, leaning against his table, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, trying to relax. Getting all worked up wasn’t going to fix anything.

* * *

 

    He moved an empty glass out of the way, readjusting his tie. The board was covered in papers, anything he could find relating to the Vigilante or Reese. Which wasn’t much, of course. And what he did have wasn’t very useful. He sat down at his computer again, turning on the monitors. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the glare of the screens against the early morning light. Immediately, a window popped up. Another text box, with only one line of text this time.

    _Rise and shine, Harold._

He looked around the library, like he was expecting to find a hidden camera somewhere, watching him. (he didn’t find any, obviously. Only his own.) He tried again to type back in the chat box, or find its IP, but his attention was quickly drawn to another window that had opened.

    It was the camera feed.

    He watched. Reese was in the center of a new room, still duct-taped to the chair. Finch had to wonder if it was the same one from yesterday. This time, though, he had a metal collar around his neck, connected to a chain going into one of the walls behind him. Reese looked up at the camera, “I’m alright, Finch.” his voice was tired, strained, and the bad audio quality wasn’t helping.

    “No, you are not, Mr. Reese.” Finch muttered, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen.

* * *

 

    The cuts on his face burned, a slow dull pain that he couldn't ignore. His leg hurt worse, though, almost as much as his shoulder. Enough so that he couldn’t didn’t want to move it. The vigilante stepped through the doorway again, distracting John from the pain.

    “Ready to talk?”

    “Not particularly.”

    “Just as I thought. Should we do the same as usual, or do you say we stakes a bit?”

    John opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off. “I think you could use a little more, persuasion. Don’t you think? Here, I’ll show you what I have in mind.” The man walked behind him, and tied some fabric around his eyes, blinding him, before cutting the duct tape holding him to the chair. The man grabbed his one good shoulder and hoisted him up. John’s legs buckled underneath him, not used to supporting his weight. But the Vigilante dragged him up again, holding him up until he could stand still.

    “Now every time I press this button….” John could hear a buzzing sound and suddenly he was pulled back, fast, slamming into the wall behind him. He would’ve fallen to the ground but the collar and chain held him up at full height, putting all his weight on his neck. He struggled to breathe in after getting the breath knocked out of him, coughing and choking and trying to find his footing. The vigilant pushed another button, and the chain relaxed, sending Reese to the floor.

    “Now c’mon.” he picked him up by the shoulder again, pulling him back over to where he was standing before. “Where is it.”

    “I, ug, don’t know.”

    “Wrong answer.”

    The buzzer sounded again, and Reese was once again slammed back into the wall. His shoulder blades burned, pain spreading across his back. The Vigilant released him, and stood him up again, asking him the same thing, “where is it? How do I delete numbers off of it?”

    “I’m telling you, I-I don’t know.”

    Reese was smashed against the wall again. He sank to the floor, eyes screwed shut, waiting for the pain to dissipate.

    “Tell me where it is.” the man growled.

    “I don’t-”

    “God damn it.”

    Reese heard a gun cock, and then fire, sending white hot pain up his left arm.

* * *

 

    Blood pooled as Reese writhed on the ground like a child, holding his arm. Finch watched the Vigilante raise his gun again, before a line of text popped up in the chat box:

    _Last chance, Harold._

He looked back at the screen, Reese was still blindfolded, he couldn’t even see what was going on, but he knew he was watching. He couldn’t just let Reese die like this, not when he had the chance to save him. But giving up the machine, the could destroy the whole world. Finch didn't have long to decide, the Vigilante recocked the gun, before looking into the camera, waiting for Finch to make his choice. Finch looked at Reese, still on the ground. Too much blood, he was losing too much blood. He was out of time now, and Finch knew he would never forgive himself if he just watched Reese die like that. He picked up his phone, not sure exactly how he was going to contact them, when a call suddenly came through. Unknown number. He paused briefly, hoping he was making the right choice.

    “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”


	2. part 2

“Then where is it? Where are you getting this information from?” 

“It’s the machine, you see-.” 

“I  _ know _ its the machine, I asked where you are getting this information from.” 

“The machine.”

“Fine. then where is the  _ machine _ getting it from.”

“It gets it from everywhere. Public records, private records. It’s knows everything because it sees everything. Including this.”

“How do I access the machine?”

“You can’t, it has a closed system-”

“Where. Is. the. Machine.”

“It’s not just in one place, it’s everywhere.” 

“That’s it.” the man raised his gun again, aiming it between Reese’s eyes. Reese has stopped moving by now, he was going into hypovolemic shock.  

“Wait.”

The man stopped 

“New Jersey.” 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s located in New Jersey.”

“There you go. Now was that so difficult. It definitely didn’t warrant all the suffering of you ‘friend’ over here.” The line clicked and went dead. Finch turned back to monitors. The man said something to Reese, before looking at the monitors and winking. He ran off screen, leaving Reese behind. Finch waited. Waited for anything. For someone to come back. Everything was dead silent fo the longest time, until a loud crash from somewhere far off screen made Finch jump back from the screen. Gunshots came from somewhere in the distance. They sounded like they were getting closer. Finch could do nothing but wait to see who the new assailant was. 

Someone new ran on screen. A woman with dark hair, along with a dog that came running in a second later. Shaw. the dog ran over and licked Reese’s face like he hadn’t seen him in years. Shaw put her gun away and picked up Reese like he weighed nothing. She glanced quickly at the camera before carrying him off screen. Finch didn’t have to wait long till his phone rang. 

“Ms. Shaw.” 

“I found him, Finch.” 


End file.
